


Lunacy

by agent_cupcake



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, One Shot, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex, reader is not byleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_cupcake/pseuds/agent_cupcake
Summary: Lunacy: a word that derives from lunaticus meaning "of the moon" or "moonstruck".The hour is late when the inability to sleep drives you to seek out Dimitri, going to him with good intentions and the hope of using your past flame to sway him into sanity. Unfortunately, those good intentions are misunderstood.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 230





	Lunacy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm real happy about this one so it gets its own separate post. Anon wanted feral Dimitri and honestly? Don't we all?

“Leave me be,” Dimitri greeted you, casting a sideways glance your direction when he became aware that you had joined him in the shadowy cathedral. With those words, he derailed the dozens of arguments you had prepared in your sleepless state, ones that you had refined while walking across the bridge and into the dark maw of this once splendid marvel of architecture.

Inhaling a deep lungful of the cold, somewhat stale and dusty air to steady yourself, you continued walking past the pews and the parts of the room that were entirely unlit without the merciful tragedy of a caved in ceiling. 

“I didn’t even know you were here,” you lied. “I can’t sleep.”

Obviously he knew you weren’t being truthful, but all Dimitri responded with was a dismissive ‘hmph’, tossing his head away dramatically. The silence returned, infecting the pale light that shone from the giant hole in the ceiling. 

It really was a spectacular amount of damage, creating a horrible mess of broken glass and rough stone. The five years between your time at the academy and now were cruel and jagged, their raw edges shown no more clearly than here, with Dimitri beside you and the cathedral crumbled beyond recognition.

Words built in the quiet, unwanted and ugly things that would tangle the tendrils of tension spun like a spider’s web between the two of you. Not just the mention of old memories, snapshots of the moments you had shared with Dimitri before he had become this jaded creature of anger and revenge, but pleading arguments. Even in your mind, they were nothing but obtrusive and clunky trinkets, yet you found yourself unable to resist bringing them out anyway.

“You should stay, you know,” you said in as offhand of a tone as you could manage, shattering the uneasy peace. 

“What I do is none of your concern,” Dimitri responded coldly. You bit your lip, which was unattractively dry, turning towards him slightly.

“I mean, we were… Were…” You were unable to say it, choking on the word at the very last second.

“Lovers,” Dimitri said starkly, without embarrassment or emotion. “Yes, I recall.”

The casual dismissal hurt, but you refused to show it, to soldier on now that you’d already gotten this far. Not far, really, but it was more conversation than you’d seen him have with anyone besides the professor. 

“I still… I still feel that way- I mean, I care about you. A lot, so I…” you waved your hands helplessly, emptily. What could you offer besides dead affection and your idiot heart?

‘Nothing’ was the correct answer, the only answer. Nothing at all. Coming to Dimitri, approaching him in the dead of night in the silence of the cathedral in the hopes he’d listen to your words above anybody else’s was ridiculous. Foolish. Pointless.

“So that’s why you’ve come.” Dimitri wore a grim, understanding kind of smirk, his chin lifted in a parody of humor as he looked down at you. Somehow, that was the worst response he could possibly have shown. To understand something you yourself floundered in confusion over. “Well then, shall I use you to quench my base desires? Would that satiate you? Would that grant me peace from those wretched eyes of yours?”

Your stomach flipped, or perhaps dropped. There seemed to be no words describe the uniquely intense jolt that knotted your insides upon hearing those words, something equally panicked and piqued, something terrible in its complexity. It seemed so sudden, yet he spoke as if it were a fully realized conclusion. It was another cruelty, you decided. Dimitri did have such a way with those as of late.  
  
“No, that’s not what I want from you.” You spoke carefully in saying such a thing, because it was, in its own way, a lie. A lie that you would cling to until your dying breath, because the truth of the matter was unquestionably damning. A truth, as well, and one that you hoped could defuse the situation. That would make him listen.

A pipe dream.

“Then leave,” Dimitri said simply, crossing his arms. No room for negotiation, not even a quip to call you out. One or the other. He looked as if he truly meant it. Iron will against your wavering hopeful heart. “There’s only a single purpose your company could provide. If you stay, I’ll make use of you.”

Your heart thumped extra hard in your chest, breath leaving your lungs in a harsh exhale. He was trying to scare you away, you told yourself, but you wouldn’t be frightened off by such vulgar threats. Dimitri wouldn’t do anything. Not possibly. He was only trying to unnerve you.

“I won’t until you listen to me,” your voice, not quite a shout, rang out in the broken arches of the cathedral, bouncing from walls once constructed in divine image and out into the twinkling sky full of carefree stars above. It was loud, echoed in a way you didn’t intend, but you refused to shy away from the stark volume. A defense against his hurtful threat. “You can’t keep going like this, you’ll burn yourself out before you can achieve anything other than a horrific death.”

Desperation was your last card to play, a veneer you would hide behind in order to pretend that you didn’t understand the stakes he had just set for your continued presence. Maybe the self righteous cry came from a disturbing and dark form of curiosity, too, because whatever move Dimitri made next would be _something_. Something, anything better than the bleak and careless confrontation of his death in the name of revenge.

“Please, Dimitri, for me-”  
  
“I owe you nothing,” Dimitri growled, bringing you up short with the absolute virulence of his coarse voice.

He was fast in coming close, closer than anybody had been in the past five years, nearly startling you into stumbling over and forcing you to steady yourself against the large piece of rubble that bit at your back. The proximity was intimate, allowing you to smell the musky burn of his skin, the tang of metal weaponry and blood that clung to his clothes, and the primally animalistic odor of the fur draped across his shoulders. It wasn’t the first time you’d become aware of the thousands of differences between this man and the one you knew five years ago, but right then his height was the most striking. Dimitri loomed over you, giving you no choice but to crane your neck, your pulse thrumming in the exposed skin of your throat. His voice became lower, too. As intimate as the position.

“But it seems that you don’t mind if I take you after all.”

So plainly stated. Dimitri used to be so shy about such matters, always leaving it up to your discretion and comfort. Now he was dark and tormented, his face shadowed with pain and madness, his voice rough and promises grim. He spoke of taking you in the same way he spoke of killing you. You couldn’t tell if he was just pretending anymore.

“Stop trying to scare me, it won’t work,” you muttered uncertainly, all the fire of your earlier proclamation gone. Sickness washed through you in a flurry of nerves, and your hands shook as they struggled to find a place to settle. Unmoving and unstable, coursing with something you couldn’t name, you stood still. “Dimitri, please just talk with me, please-”

“I’m not interested in hearing any more of what you have to say,” he interrupted you. “Compared to theirs, your voice is meaningless. I’ll give you a final chance. Leave. Now.”

Dimitri’s gaze, a single eye that shone without any of the beautiful blue you knew to glisten beneath the shadow, was darkened entirely beneath the arch of bone and flesh, a ghoulish face surrounded by a halo outline of silvery blond hair. You were not staring into the helpless and hollow expanse of the void, but into a blackness that teamed with countless demons and torments, that sought your soul with his final threat. No, not a threat. Something more. Dimitri’s voice had softened into a plea, asking you to leave before-

Before he did something that both of you knew he shouldn’t.

In the echoing silence of such high stakes, you chewed on a response with bated breath and blood rushing in your ears. The carefully planned responses that might ease the tension eating you up were quick to become nothing but hollow words. You simply did as you always did, speaking without consideration for consequence and calling a bluff you no longer believed was a bluff.

“No.”

If you had more time, you would have explained that you wouldn’t turn your back on him now. Dimitri had left you once, twice, and now was edging ever closer to abandoning you a third and final time, but you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. If you had a sane mind, not one addled by anticipation, fatigue, and fearful fever, you would have tried to make him understand that you would stay by his side until the bitter end, no matter what.

But you didn’t have time, and your singular response had set off the trigger of some fundamental piece of this interaction you had been misreading entirely.

“Then I have no reason to restrain myself, do I?”

The question had no answer, although even if it had, your lungs were deprived the oxygen to give it when he pushed you onto the large chunk of fallen ceiling behind you. It wasn’t comfortable, of course it wasn’t comfortable. The stone beneath your back was roughly broken into fractured contours of peaked hills and dipped valleys, dewy with moisture that may as well have been frost considering the temperature in the cathedral. Normally convection heat would have been raised from fires beneath the monastery and through the vents, but such luxuries had been abandoned for non-essential areas of Garreg Mach considering the already limited manpower and resources.

You blinked the stars of confused disorientation from your eyes, a shiver running down your back with a sensation that had little to do with cold and more to do with the odd thrill of pain and violence. That had everything to do with him.

Dimitri rose above you, shining in the cosmic light of the stars and moon made bare by the shattered destruction. His flaxen hair and milky skin were cast an inhuman silver, face turned to the heavens with his single eye closed and expression one of relative peace. Turned towards the very front of the cathedral, it was as if Dimitri was praying, a stance held for the split of a second, suspended eternally in the hyper reality you yet questioned.

As abruptly as he’d taken the position, it was over. Dimitri’s focus zeroed in entirely on you beneath him. It was impossible to forfeit comparisons, but right then you had the helpless sensation that the man looming above you had less in common with the one you’d spent your awkwardly sweet first time with than puppy did with a crest beast. His look was dark, sending your stomach twisting in a way you hated to rightfully identify.

“Now, then…” Dimitri spoke lowly, his face composed in a different way than before, the words dripping promise.

“Here?” you asked him with an unfortunate squeak of a tone. Here, you meant, in the cathedral. A holy place. It wasn’t as if you were overwhelming religious, but there was something vile about tainting a hallowed place.

“Do you worry the Goddess will strike you down for blasphemy?” Dimitri asked. And then, even more quietly, “Do you really think she cares?”

You swallowed hard. Religious or no, there was something haunting about his tone of voice. “No,” you argued instead. “But what if someone hears?”

“If you restrain yourself, that won’t be a problem,” he said, as if it were that simple. “Or are you asking me to gag you? If that’s the case, I wonder what I might use…”

“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly, discomfort mounting. This was a bad, bad idea. And yet, you weren’t stopping him.

Dimitri let out a little ‘hmph’ and, with a leather clad knuckle, almost absently pushed a lock of your hair out of your face. The glove smelled of weapon polish and metal. Blood, too. It was an accident, an unintentional mistake, but the oddly soft display of affection caused you to flinch. Dimitri’s eye narrowed at your reaction, his jaw clenching and the strange distracted expression replaced with something more intense. The same hand trailed with harsher purpose down your cheek and neck, the leather cool and soft, to delve beneath your coat, to seek the bare skin of your chest and rest above your heart where it beat a rapid frenzy. Despite the leather separating your skin from direct contact, there was something acutely intimate about his hand above your heart.

“You’re afraid,” he noted. “Do you think I’ll hurt you?” Dimitri seemed amused by the idea, a smirk gracing his lips.

“I don’t know,” you responded softly, a far cry from your intended ‘no’. In any case, it was the truth. After all the lying you had done, were still doing by the fact you hadn’t yet put a stop to this madness, it was the truth. Dimitri laughed, a cold sound without humor.

“How detestable,” he said, removing his hand. You were quick to cover the electrified skin with your coat, to cover yourself with the dregs of modesty you couldn’t exactly claim to have. “Even knowing the consequences, you acted out according to your own selfish desires. I could tear you apart, limb from limb, and there’s nothing you could do to stop me.” Dimitri spoke with emphasis on the words, a sickening sort of relish with his fingers crawling ever closer until they were loosely draped around your throat.

“I know,” you told him plainly, your gaze unwavering on his and hands gripping his wrist. He held that way, weighing you, before pulling his hand from your neck.

“Even the threat of death…” Dimitri muttered, his lip curled slightly in something like disgust.

“I don’t think you’d kill me,” you told him, hating that disgust. With less surety, you added, “Or… Or hurt me.”

“Is that a fact?” Dimitri asked, the heartless edge of a teasing tone lilting the question. So you, of course, set your jaw.

“Yes.”

“Let’s see about that, shall we?” he asked, moving his hands down to pry apart your coat, to flip up the end of the loose shirt you’d worn so he could pry at the leggings beneath. It was not violent at first, but his movements mounted with such force that soon you felt the beginnings of horror at what Dimitri intended. 

Horror because suddenly it was real. Actually happening. Suddenly you knew you couldn’t stop him. 

“Dimitri, what are you doing?” you asked in a tone of panicked discomfort. You knew, it wasn’t as if the situation was difficult to read, but you asked all the same as a way to temper his sudden movements. Dimitri continued despite your struggling, pulling and pushing fabric until it gave way naturally or with ripped seams, revealing the most intimate pieces of your body to the cold and his gaze.

You yelped when he pulled your legs up, when you realized with certainty what he was about to do. A dozen more complaints and questions bubbled out in incomprehensible succession as he positioned himself between your thighs, a precarious position considering the way you still tried to move away from him and his unnervingly intense expression.

“Don’t struggle,” Dimitri demanded in little more than a growl, rendering your body limp out of something like fear. Something like lust, a version of the feeling that was as dark as it came.

It was not a difficulty for Dimitri to keep your thighs open, pinning them more or less to his shoulders where the fur tickled your sensitive skin. When he pushed you upwards, it knocked your head against the rocky rubble forming a great mountain above, stunning you for a moment.

Without subtlety and without warning, without foreplay or any attempt to make things sane or alright, his tongue sought your clit. The first brush of wet heat made your hips jump in the limited way they could, a sound that had nothing to do with the pain pounding in your head leaving your lips.

Good. It shouldn’t have been, but it was.

Very quickly you realized that Dimitri was not trying to be playful or to draw things out. His mouth and tongue were merciless in working you up, and, truthfully, you didn’t make it difficult. Despite the grotesque morality of you allowing this to happen, it was still Dimitri between your legs. When your hands buried themselves in his hair it was long and thick, without the blunt edges and held down in some parts by the bands of his eyepatch, but it was still gold touched by silver moonlight, it was still his.

War had only done so much to stifle your libido, the transition from teen to full adult giving life to the blooming needs of a woman. You hadn’t sought out any other partners, but that hadn’t stopped you from taking care of things now and then, when your body thrummed hot and desire became a distraction.

Those crumbs of stolen moments with nothing but your quick fingers and memories were nothing compared to the feast of pleasure being given to you now. It was almost too much, too blunt and too fast all, an onslaught of lust. There was no time to do anything but follow Dimitri’s breakneck pace as the coiling heat beneath his mouth became more and more tense, the liquid gold of release gushing in response to his tongue’s clever movements. 

It wasn’t a question of if you were going to come for him, because of course you would. Even now, even like this, even this version of Dimitri. Even though it was wrong in every aspect, morally and spiritually. Spread supine on a harsh altar of fallen stone, bathed in light from a moon straight above in the sweeping grandeur of a cathedral of worship, there was a tangential feeling of absolute depravity to the pleasure that lent a bastardized holy glow to the build of your illicit thrill. A man, a monster, a demon mimicked the sacred ritual of worship between your thighs, which were covered in goosebumps from the temperature difference and already forming finger shaped bruises. Your body writhed and contorted on the uneven surface like something possessed, pleasured gasps and moans as well as the obscenely wet working of his mouth against your heated flesh sent heavenward. 

Profane, utterly and deplorably.

“Dih-mitri,” you gasped, trying to stifle yourself because even while lost in ecstasy, there was a part of your brain that was overly aware of the way each moan of yours echoed. “Slow… Slow down, _please_ -” The plea cut off with a muffled whimpering cry, Dimitri sucking hard on your clit in response to your vain attempt at control.

You wanted to beg him to stop, or to continue, or for more, but instead you shoved your fingers in your mouth, biting them and adding another layer of pain to the relentless pulse and build of heat. Another conflict of good and bad. All you felt was the pain of the rock biting into your back, the pounding of your head, the bruising way Dimitri held your legs. All you were was a creature bound, blind and deaf, to the singular and unquestionable need to come. Some part of you wanted to relish it, to revel in his touch, but another was glad for it to be this way. Dark and painful and fast, taken at the expense of reason or sanity.

There was no singular sensation that sent you off, rather it all came at once, tossing you off the edge with it. A breeze played across the swaths of your skin that were bare to the cool air, Dimitri changed direction in the movement of his tongue, he groaned when you pulled especially hard at his hair with the hand not lodged firmly between your lips. And that was it, like a bottle unstopped or a length of metal shot through with electrical magic. You came hard for him, because of him, your body seizing and mind wiped clean with a moment of utter bliss. It was a world made right, the circumstances that lead you to such extremes forgotten as your hips jolted and muscles strained.

Dimitri’s name, impossible to make out from between the fingers in your mouth, had become a garbled chant. A prayer as you came down from the brink, trembling and fevered. 

Blood and saliva dripped from marks your teeth had left when you used the hand that had been in your mouth to push your hair from your sweaty and heat stained face, the pain slow in computing, backed up with the rest of the sensations your body had been overwrought with.

With a slight groan, you opened your eyes, somewhat unsure of when you’d closed them, Dimitri was already working on his own pants. For a moment, still wavering on the lapping edges of pleasure, you were excited for what was to come. He was obviously aroused. Eating you out had aroused him, and that was enough to pull a shivering tremor through your body.

But sanity, or at least whatever passed for it, was soon to return. His expression was not the blushed lust of the man you knew. His was the frenzied haze of an animal, dark and instinctual. Dimitri pulled you down the sacrilegious altar without concern for how you’d tumble, your shirt and coat riding up and back hitting the stone awkwardly before you could get your arms beneath you to move with the rough treatment.

“Dimitri-” In your voice was the breathy sound of dawning reality and the doubt it invited, but the rest of the words became lost when he entered you with a relentless surge. The sound was wet and squishy, a decidedly lewd noise of your body giving way to his that hit the air between your staccato gasps. 

Five years was a long time, long enough for your body to have become unaccustomed to being filled. It hurt. A ripping, sharp kind of a feeling. At the same time, the pleasure of being full was not entirely lost. Pain and pleasure, again. Confusing and dizzying. 

Dimitri didn’t allow you to squirm at all. His gloved hands were firm in holding your hip and thigh to the edge of the piece broken structure, but his eye was closed, face turned upward in a reflection of the prayer-like expression he’d worn before. With a sick delight, you made note of the wetness dewed on his mouth and chin.

It couldn’t have been long, a pause of mere seconds, before Dimitri’s eye opened into a dark and pitiless stare. Then he began to move. After that, you were glad for that period of adjustment. Sensitive still from his mouth, trembling from orgasm, and reminded yet again of the loathsome circumstances, it was all you could do to hold on while he fucked you.

Raw and primal, none of the sweet consideration of the man you had first loved. The cathedral filled with the sounds of it, wet and physical and lewd, your unintentional responses picking up as your body became acclimated to the treatment and pliant to the pleasure it provided.

When you made a move to reach for him, Dimitri let out a sound. Lust. Aggression. Harsh. His gloved hand knocked your searching grasp away, pinning it to the stone beside you while the other dug its strong fingers into your thigh. Pain made your back arch. Arching your back changed the angle with which he entered you, allowing for a different sensation. An intensely pleasurable burst of bliss. Pain creating pleasure, it seemed a forgone conclusion now. Whatever hurt would inevitably be rewarded. Somehow, that was okay. Good, even. Surely you would beg for such a misery until you were hoarse and voiceless.

Distantly, you were aware that his name was on your lips, your other hand reaching for him with the first pinned down. Your eyes locked, and Dimitri paused, breathing rapidly and cheeks brushed pink. Bowing at the altar, he fell forward, arms braced around you to hold his weight so he could cover you fully. For a moment, you hoped he would kiss you, but his lips sought the skin of your neck instead. 

So close, the musky masculine scent of Dimitri’s sweat and the iron tang of metal weapons and old blood washed over you, some of his hair fallen on your face with the way he’d buried his face into your neck. Devouring you, almost, lips and tongue and teeth coloring marks into your skin. Devouring in the way his figure dwarfed yours.

So close, when his hips began to move again, filling you ceaselessly, additively, roughly, you couldn’t help but moan openly for him, because of him, regardless of the abstract idea of being found in such a compromising situation. This position opened you up further, his pelvis stroking your clit with each pass, stoking flames the satisfaction of fulfillment had already built to burning.

So close, Dimitri inhaled the scent of your skin, your hair, his lips grazing the marks he’d left on your neck and throat and jaw, making you shiver against him. You held on, gladly wrapping your arms around him in the fashion of an embrace he’d never allow otherwise.

So close, you felt as if you were getting drunk on the violent sounds that built and growled deep in his throat, on the way he gasped for air against your throat, the verbal expressions of this most primal need for you.

Dimitri was dangerously strong, a strength that could easily crush your very bones into dust. Strange, then, that even now you could feel his restraint, thin traces of it in the way he encircled you, in the way he fucked you. It was rough, violent, aggressive, but it wouldn’t break you. Probably. Right then, you doubted you’d have minded if he did. As long as it was Dimitri.

It was already without question that you’d come for him again, desperate to feel him come for you. Depraved and pathetic, you needed those things like you needed water or air. Maybe more. He seemed to understand, urging you onward with the ceaseless surge of pleasure.

A surprised sound left your mouth at a particular angle and Dimitri exploited it relentlessly, as if his body was attuned to yours. So it built again, roughly and without restraint. Your fingers clawed at his clothed back until tangling in his hair, incomprehensible words and pleas and sounds leaving your mouth. It built needfully, delightfully, deliciously, disastrously-

Your thighs trembled around his hips as you came undone once more, hips trying to meet his with an artless desire, angling upwards to take him deeper, to feel him entirely. It was warmth, wonderful, complete. The temporary loss of five years and nothing more than pleasure given by the man you loved the most, uncomplicated by time and tragedy.

But Dimitri was quick to remind you of the differences, a choked growl leaving his mouth as his hips stuttered and pushed himself deep inside of you. Violent, careless. His hands dug deep into your skin, his teeth making their mark where your pulse thudded its delirious dance. You allowed it, even moaned for the pain of his treatment and the agony of remembering the truth of the situation. Because it was him.

The haze stretched to breaking in the wake of release, the bubble of lust unclouding as your highs abated and his teeth left your aching neck be. Your eyes opened, aligning upon the moon where it was dropping ever lower into the navy blue night sky. They closed again when Dimitri stood up, allowing your arms to drop limply to your sides and his warmth fading into the empty cold of the cathedral. The rasping sounds of two mouths gasping for breath was the only counterpoint to the sound of fabric being replaced and metal being secured.

You wanted to say something, anything. But the spider’s web had woven itself twice as thick in this new, awful silence, and your tongue got caught in it.

Dimitri’s retreating footsteps echoed quite crisply. 

In a way, you were glad that Dimitri was leaving. At least he wouldn’t see you cry. Then again, the idea of stumbling back to your room all alone and in the state you were in was a wretched one. Sitting up with trembling stomach muscles and shaky arms, sore in just about every place imaginable, you watched his figure depart into the night without so much as a word.

Soon, under the indifferent gaze of the moon, you did the same.


End file.
